


Poor Planning

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Follow the North Star [40]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Oh great, you traumatized Evan,” Harry says.“Iam traumatized!” Valeri says.“Don’t front, you’veparticipatedin threesomes,” Harry says. “You don’t get to go all blushing virgin on me when I do the same—”“Stop telling me,” Valeri wails.





	Poor Planning

Valeri is irritated. Irritated and exhausted. He hasn’t gotten much sleep tonight thanks to a heavy dose of guilt and an extra serving of concern sitting low in his stomach and making him feel slightly ill. He had almost managed to fall asleep sometime around one despite that, but then Victor came in, and Valeri hasn’t been able to fall into much more than a shallow doze since then. Victor snores. Not very loudly, but it’s still annoying, especially with how on edge Valeri feels right now.

The sky is starting to go from black to deep blue outside the window, visible through a crack in the curtains, and Valeri wonders for the thousandth time if he should go rescue Harry and Evan and Roman. Victor and Liam have the keys, and neither are likely to hand one over, knowing Valeri as the weakest link, but Valeri’s sure he could get one from reception. 

He sighs.

“I’m going to kill you if you sigh one more time,” Victor mumbles into his pillow. Well, Harry’s pillow, since Victor’s room is currently being used to hold hostages.

Valeri sighs again.

Victor makes a sound very similar to a growl, then sits up in bed. “What?” he says.

“It has been a very long time,” Valeri says. Even though it was technically his idea, he didn’t actually expect them to _do_ anything about it, especially Victor. It was supposed to be a _joke_. Even if he had expected them to latch onto it, he would have thought they’d stick them in there for an hour, maybe two, just enough time to force them to talk to one another. 

It’s been close to seventeen hours now, and Valeri knows they’re trying to help, but it feels cruel. It would help everyone if they talked instead of avoiding their issues, something Valeri knows Evan and Harry are particularly good at — avoidance, he means — but perhaps kidnapping was taking it a little far. Valeri can’t even imagine what management would do if they found out about this. They turn a blind eye on pranks, but this probably doesn’t qualify as a prank anymore.

“We’ll free them in the morning,” Victor says.

“It is morning,” Valeri objects.

“It’s still dark out,” Victor says.

“It’s almost six,” Valeri says.

“Oh my god, it isn’t even six yet?” Victor says. “I _hate_ you.”

“You aren’t guarding,” Valeri says. “What if something happened and no one could hear?”

“Fitzy’s room is next door, if something’s seriously wrong he’ll know,” Victor says, but he sounds a little doubtful now.

Valeri sighs.

“Okay, fine,” Victor snaps. “Can I shower before we go at least?”

Valeri blinks at him.

“Well, you’re coming with me,” Victor says, and they’re dressed and tiptoeing through the hall ten minutes later, Victor’s hair dripping wet, Valeri yawning into his hand. Victor stops outside the door, key card hovering uncertainly, hesitant in a way Valeri’s never seen him before.

“You just push, yes?” Valeri asks.

“You make it sound easy,” Victor mutters, then, when he doesn’t move, Valeri does it himself, snatching the card from Victor’s loose grip and exhaling in relief when the door beeps after he inserts it, green light flashing. Valeri can’t imagine it would have been particularly fun to tell reception they broke the door with a prank and needed a rescue now. 

A gentle push sends the pennies scattering. “Okay,” Victor says. “Done. Can I get some sleep now?”

Valeri holds the door open a crack. “We should check on them,” he says.

“We?” Victor asks.

“You,” Valeri amends.

“ _Me_?” Victor repeats.

“Your idea,” Valeri says.

“It was _your_ idea,” Victor argues.

“You planned it,” Valeri says.

“Fine,” Victor says with a scowl. “If I scream just assume Roman’s murdering me.”

Valeri thinks it’s far more likely Harry will murder him, but he doesn’t say that aloud. He’ll let Harry have the element of surprise. 

Victor creeps in silently, and Valeri waits, anxious, until he can see a light snap on through the crack in the door, accompanied by a yelp that sounds like Victor, as odd as the thought of Victor yelping is. Valeri should leave it alone, because it’s Victor’s own fault, but it would probably be bad if Harry actually killed him. They can’t call someone up with so little notice. Harry won’t kill Valeri — well, probably — so Valeri should go save him.

Victor is not being murdered. Victor is standing with his hands over his face, which Valeri doesn’t understand until —

He claps his hands over his own face.

“My eyes,” Valeri cries out.

“You deserve worse,” Harry says, and Valeri peeks through his fingers then hides his face again, because no one is dressed. He’s seen them all naked countless times before, but this is not even close to the same thing. 

“For fuck’s sakes, put on some clothes!” Victor says.

“I’m sorry, who’s the one who barged in without fucking knocking?” Harry snaps, but Valeri hears a clink of belt and hopes that means they’re doing what Victor suggested.

“I—” Evan says, and when Valeri tentatively uncovers his face he sees him dart into the bathroom so quick he’s a streak of pale ass, door slamming behind him before Valeri can squeeze his eyes shut.

“Oh great, you traumatized Evan,” Harry says.

“ _I_ am traumatized!” Valeri says.

“Don’t front, you’ve _participated_ in threesomes,” Harry says. “You don’t get to go all blushing virgin on me when I do the same—”

“Stop telling me,” Valeri wails.

“Oh my god, Asenov, open your damn eyes, you’re not _five_ ,” Harry says, and Valeri cracks one eye open to find both him and Roman thankfully wearing pants.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Harry says. “You guys were the ones who _did_ this to us and now you’re fucking—”

“Hey, could be worse,” Roman says. He sounds almost relaxed, or maybe just in comparison to everyone else: Harry yelling, Evan hiding in the bathroom, Victor’s mouth pursed like he ate something sour. And Valeri himself, who really wishes he hadn’t pushed Victor to open this door. There are things he can’t unsee. So many things. So many images his brain keeps making without his permission. How did they all _fit_? Valeri sometimes finds those doubles uncomfortably tight to sleep in with one other person, and that’s with a girl. Roman’s practically two people all by _himself_.

“Oh yeah?” Harry asks. “Do tell, Novák.” 

“At least Fitzy isn’t here,” Roman says.

Valeri can feel the horror spread across the room like a shudder.

“We can’t tell him,” Victor says very quietly.

“He’s going to know,” Valeri frets. He always seems to figure things out.

“He’ll never shut up about it,” Victor groans.

“For two people who _aided and abetted him_ , you don’t sound very loyal,” Roman says.

“We were bribed,” Victor says.

“Bribed,” Roman repeats.

“His boyfriend made us treats,” Victor says.

“Cookies,” Valeri confirms. “And tarts. And truffles.” The last he says a little dreamily. He hopes Fitzy’s boyfriend makes more of those truffles soon. He’ll happily accept the cookies if he doesn’t, though. Or the tarts. He’s not really picky.

“We talking about the same boyfriend?” Roman asks incredulously.

“Wait,” Harry says. “You know who Fitzgerald’s boyfriend is?”

“No?” Roman says, but uncertainly, which is interesting. 

“And you _still_ made us do that stupid Rookie Detective crap?” 

Harry is shouting again. Valeri is used to Harry shouting, and it doesn’t particularly bother him when it’s not aimed in his direction. Still, it’s always best to get away from the shouting before Harry starts aiming it at anyone within shouting distance, so he walks over to the bathroom and knocks on the door.

“Do you have clothes?” Valeri asks.

“No,” Evan responds after a minute.

“I go get them,” Valeri tells him, and weaves between Roman, who is looking alarmed, and Harry’s pointing finger, picking through discarded clothes and trying very hard not to think about the circumstances they were discarded in until he’s got Evan’s pants and shirt.

“Um,” Valeri says. “Harry?”

“What?” Harry snaps, turning his pointing finger on Valeri.

“I know you are very busy yelling,” Valeri says. “But I need to bring Evan his clothes? And…three underwear.”

He is ignoring the fact that apparently Roman and Harry are only wearing pants right now and nothing beneath them, because at least he doesn’t have to _see_.

“Oh,” Harry says, deflating, then picking what’s presumably Evan’s underwear off the floor and putting it on top of the pile in Valeri’s hands. “I can bring it to him.”

“You busy yelling at Roman,” Valeri reminds him. 

“You are no Sweet Child o’ Mine,” Roman mutters, and Valeri smiles brightly at him and goes back to Evan’s hiding place.

“I have clothes,” Valeri says, and the door opens a crack, just enough for Evan to take the clothes, before it shuts and locks again.

“Is Harry yelling at Victor?” Evan asks, muffled, like maybe he’s pulling on his shirt.

“Roman,” Valeri says. “Victor is trying to hide.” He’s actually doing a very good job of it, standing against the wall and not moving. He looks like he wants to escape, but also like he knows that the moment he moves Harry will detect it and start yelling at him instead. Victor is not dumb.

The door unlocks, and Evan peeks an eye out. “He’s yelling at Roman?” he asks anxiously. “Why?”

“Want to come out?” Valeri asks.

Evan hesitates.

“Want me to come in?” Valeri asks. He’ll be safer if Evan lets him share his hiding place, and he knows if he tries to escape the room entirely Harry will haul him back in. Valeri would think he’d want Victor and Valeri to clear out, but he knows angry Harry is not reasonable Harry. Most Harrys are not reasonable Harrys, but angry Harry is the very opposite, and he’s had close to a day to stew, except for however long he spent — Valeri is not thinking about this. It’s like thinking about his sister having sex or something. Which she has, of course, since he has a one-year-old nephew, but — Valeri is _not_ thinking about this.

The door opens a little more, and Valeri slips through, finding Evan sitting on the toilet lid. Valeri sits on the edge of the tub. It isn’t very comfortable, but at least it’s a little quieter in here.

“Why’s Harry yelling at Roman?” Evan repeats.

“Roman knows who Fitzy’s boyfriend is,” Valeri says. “Maybe.” Roman hasn’t been able to get many words in.

“So it’s not about—” Evan says, then stops. He looks relieved.

There are many ways for Valeri to complete that sentence, and if he was talking to Harry he’d go right for it, get his reward in a flush or a squawk or both. But this is Evan, so he just says. “No, not about.”

“I should go out there,” Evan says, sounding reluctant.

“What’s everyone up to this fine morning?” Valeri hears from right outside the bathroom door. “Other than waking up their poor neighbor by yelling?”

Valeri looks back into Evan’s wide eyes. 

Liam has arrived.

“You,” he hears, Harry’s voice now, lower than the yelling but far scarier.

“Me!” Liam says. “Roman. Harry. Victor. You retrieved them early, I see!” 

“Val wouldn’t shut up about it,” Victor says. “Dragged me out of bed before six.”

“Way to throw the only guy with half a conscience under the bus,” Harry snaps at him.

“We never leave this bathroom,” Valeri whispers to Evan, who nods seriously back at him.

“And it’s not like the mission wasn’t—” Victor says, then stops very abruptly. It isn’t like Victor to forget the plan, and the plan is not letting Liam know _anything_.

“Where’s Sweetheart?” Liam asks, either not noticing Victor’s slip or ignoring it temporarily to pull out later. It’s sometimes very hard to tell how much Liam knows.

“Dunno,” Roman says.

“Must’ve escaped,” Harry says.

Victor says nothing at all.

So loyal. They warm Valeri’s heart, and not just because their loyalty hides him from Liam too. Valeri’s a little frightened of him. He is…a lot.

“They hide you,” Valeri whispers, nudging his knee against Evan’s, and catches the edge of Evan’s smile before he ducks his head.

Liam leaves pretty quickly after that, with a lot less crowing than Valeri expected from him. Valeri wonders if he missed the underwear still between the beds and all it implied, wonders if Roman and Harry pulled their shirts on at some point in the argument. He must have, and they must have. Liam may keep some cards to his chest, but he wouldn’t have let either thing go without loud, triumphant comment.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Connie?” Roman asks. “Everyone’s left.”

“Never leave?” Valeri asks hopefully.

Evan sighs and gets up, going to open the door. 

“You okay?” Roman asks. His shirt is indeed on. It’s also inside out, but Valeri isn’t going to be the one to tell him that.

“I’m fine,” Evan says, and Valeri creeps out behind him, hoping Evan’s giant body can shield him until he reaches the door.

“The hell did you come from?” Harry asks, before Valeri can make his exit.

“Hid with Evan,” Valeri says.

“Coward,” Harry says, and Valeri shrugs, because that’s fair. Then, sounding stricken, “Shit, I didn’t mean you, Ev, just Val.”

“No, I was too,” Evan says. “Sorry.”

“Hey, fight or flight’s a thing,” Roman says. “You picked flight, Chalmers—”

“We are not done talking about why the fuck—”

“Chalmers is still picking fight,” Roman says over him, and laughs a little when Harry punches his arm like he’s trying to prove him right.

Valeri is 100% picking flight.

“Glad you happy, goodbye!” Valeri says, and shuts the door behind himself, too loud considering how early it still is, to Harry’s “Come back here you fucking—”

Valeri exhales.

“How’s the happy couple?” he hears, just as Victor seems to appear out of the _wall_.

“Чёрт побери!” Valeri yelps. 

“Sorry,” Victor says, not sounding sorry at all. “And I guess couple isn’t the right word, huh? Trio?”

Valeri puts a hand over his racing heart. “I hate you,” he manages.

Victor shrugs a little. “So, mission success, right?” 

Valeri has seen many things he cannot unsee today. His roommate and his road roommate and the teammate who took them all under his wing last year just had a _threesome_ , and he has a feeling it will not be a one time thing, and that it may continue to happen in his _apartment_. It’s not even seven in the morning, but he’s fairly sure his life has been shortened by a few years today. He can still hear Harry yelling, muffled, behind the door, and he finished all the truffles Liam provided, so he can’t even drown his distress in chocolate. When Harry returns to their room, Valeri is probably going to die. Today has been terrible.

“Mission success,” Valeri agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> Чёрт побери - expression of surprise, roughly equivalent to 'damn it'


End file.
